


Stitches and Riches

by biqueuerious



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Angst, Body Dysphoria, Dark Imagery, Fake AH Crew, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Origin Story, POV Alternating, POV First Person, POV Third Person, Pre-Fake AH Crew, Prose Poem, Rags to Riches, Short, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Jack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 06:18:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9644120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biqueuerious/pseuds/biqueuerious
Summary: None of them were particularly used to a life of luxury. I mean, you just don't bring that kind of background to a gang - it doesn't add up. Needless to say, some get comfortable with the pay off quicker than others.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A very short series of backstories that was written spur of the moment.

Take Gavin for example. Why is he here? He acts like he's royalty shipped by the Queen herself to their shitty Los Santos doorstep. Flaunts gold jewelry and wears shades indoors like a right _douchebag_. Spends money like he's never scraped change together for a meal.

But he has.

And more often than that he's just simply done without. It wasn't easy being an orphan on the streets of Britain where even the middle class won't spare you a passing glance. They're to good for you.

And you rummage in trash to eat and sleep in the phone booths when it's raining and feed the stray dog your scraps because you're scared it'll eat you instead. It gets old wondering what will get you dead. You thought they didn't see you but they did. They all remember you now. _'Notorious thief fuck off from my store! We don't hire you're kind!'_ And you don't mind. What did you have to lose leaving this place behind.

You try what little luck you have miles off. A town where surely no one's heard of you. Savings spent on shaving and trying your best to look like you haven't crawled from exactly where you did. It lands you well, you've got a job. After living years from alley to alley you begin life paycheck to paycheck. Soon you're settled in to a slimy apartment, that's a start. Groceries once a month, that's a start. Saving little by little for a fresh start, something new. A different life so close you can taste it. Big dreams happen in big places. Dreams big enough to put smiles on your face, it'll happen you know it. Just a few more steps to take and you've made it! It's just enough for a ticket out. That big dream place where you know life would be better-

But it's not.

Big places dwarf big dreamers. Life here looked easy on the TV. All you wanted was the fame and the fortune and the gold. _Oh god, the gold!_ Such a sign of success, what a symbol of victory. The biggest _fuck you_ to the pricks back home that ignored you. Because if people knew you here they'd know you everywhere. How nice it would have felt to belong to something. How nice it would have felt to be seen.

Jobs here required more than a clean face and decent clothes. The struggles resurface and you're selling yourself. They like guys like you here so it's easy enough. Abusive relationships held dearly because at least someone loves you right? It's the feeling. It's _a feeling_. It's not... nothing. But it's not what you wanted. The money's there but it's just as empty. You're torn and ripped, not just emotionally. Then one night you're stumbling down an alley, again. And holed up in a phone booth, again. And digging in the trash again and again and again and you forgot if you ever held that plane ticket in the first place.

A voice (or three) muffled in the distance (or nearby?) yell profanities and slurs and your body is dragged up and you're weightless but still bruised, but still hurting. Everything's spinning vision blurring. Speech is slurring. Conscious fading. It's all hazy. Why did you say yes?

Loud bang and your leg falls. Echoes and your waist pulled by gravity. A thunder and the grip on your neck slips away. Your back drags down the wall and you're sitting on the ground. Minutes go by until you see a glint of gold dance on the knuckles of the hand reaching out to you. You're savior is here. He takes you to his home. Your home.

Their home.

When Gavin met Geoff he took no time adopting every fashion sense the old man had. Gold glasses, gold necklaces, gold weapons. Even when it went out of style that's all he could surround himself with. It was his comfort. It was his hope. It was his victory. Life with the Fakes and all the money crime makes keeps him alive. A family he never had. A will to live that was newly found. Notoriety that could not be ignored. His presence in the crew comes with his complete disregard for the life of others, sometimes even his own. Whatever it takes to get his riches. Because when it felt like the rest of the world forgot about you this whole time, it was best to forget it right back.

But not for Michael.


End file.
